


Time Ticks By

by AstridDean



Series: Tucson By Night [1]
Category: Vampire: The Masquerade, World of Darkness (Games)
Genre: Behind the Scenes, F/M, Grooming, The Long Game
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:40:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22105720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AstridDean/pseuds/AstridDean
Summary: Written here are those scenes us as Story Tellers and Dungeon Masters play out in our heads to prep a better game for our players. All the ones I post here they are welcome to read, but know that their characters need to connect the dots before they bring these things up.The warning tags are in place and there is a disclaimer on my home page, but I must again reiterate that dark things will be happening in this story. The rape tag is there because I left the story as in you know that’s where it is heading. None the less, the heads up will always be given.Now, please enjoy my vampire story.
Series: Tucson By Night [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1591150





	Time Ticks By

**Author's Note:**

> Somewhere tucked away in the Cappadocia region, around 4 AM on 1.1.20

A blanket of snow covered the ground, but it did not bother the living dead. Off a ways from much of anything, a woman in a red fox fur coat and matching hat made her way deeper into the expansiveness, a pack over one shoulder. These treks were familiar to the eccentric Bahari High Priestess, but she still took her time. Whenever she came upon a lone, snow heavy tree she would shake its branches free of the snow and hang strings of dried fruit. Where there were dips for foothold and such, she would place a handful of nuts in the divot before moving on.

After an hour of walking, a small abandoned cave town came into sight. This was so far out and isolated that tourist very often came to it. There were bigger, better and more easily accessible places than this one. Especially at this time of year.

The woman climbs the only remaining ladder barefoot. There were no torches because there was nobody around to maintain them. The Elder, one Opal St. Claire, made her way through the carved-out homes, stepping through destroyed walls from time and abuse to quicken the trip as needed. The room furthest in the back has a wooden door in the floor that revealed carved into the earth steps. The raven haired beauty descends nearly twenty feet before the stairs give way to a small, open square room. Against the far wall is a man shackled at hands and feet. His clothes looked like they were warm once, but were so ripped they no longer served the purpose. On the wall to the right was a single cut out of standard brick size to let the moonlight shine through just enough for the Kine to see that his captor was present. She stands in front of his slumped form and takes the pack from her shoulders.

“Shalom, Abbas.” She says as the pack hits the compact dirt ground. He jerks awake and the Bahari grabs the man’s face to silence him. She holds it until she can feel the man’s muscles relax. “I bring you news of Tiffany. Will you eat if I tell you?” This wasn’t the first time in the more than two years of his captivity that Abbas has hung somewhere in hungry defiance. Opal bends over and goes into the bag for an apple. She sinks her fangs into it just inches from the man’s face, the crisp crackle of the bite loud in the near empty dirt room. She holds the fruit at the ethnic man’s mouth, chewing her own bite. After a time, Abbas takes a bite as well. The Elder stands there in the near silence and strokes the man’s hair as he eats. Down to the rind, the woman throws it over her shoulder before kissing the man’s dirty forehead.

He had tried rebelling again. Against her; Hence his more than usual disheveled look. This one was slow to learn, but he would. The woman crosses her arms with a sigh, almost disappointed that her play thing didn’t have any fight in him at the present time. She speaks in a faint a French accent.

“Tiffany is currently on a jet to Buffalo. I need her out of the big cities.”

Slowly Abbas looks up at the woman, neck and shoulders tense from having been chained for what was now the fourth night. When he speaks, his voice cracks with dehydration. The small apple with the first bite gone to another had only helped so much. “Bring my little bell here and you won’t have to worry about that.”

The Elder slaps the man with the back of her hand and grips his throat. “That shell I pushed your way has evolved. Isabella is dead.” The man grumbled something in Arabic, which earned him another slap on the opposite cheek. “I think I will spend these next few days with you, Abbas. Take both of our minds off of our lovely.” The raven haired woman cups the man’s cheeks and adjust his head so his eyes catch in the moonlight. Opal smiles at him with her fangs out and stares into the man’s brown eyes, a brown lighter than her own. Her beast screams in her head to finally drain the man, but that did not fit this High Priestess’ plans. That fucker of a sire had poor planning skills. Opal had schemed that man’s death for more then one reason.

Abbas’ eyes gloss over and he begins yanking at the short chains, his face twisted with need. Opal kisses him full on the lips before crouching back down for something else in her pack. From it, she retrieves a medium sized, very worn brown leather pouch. The Elder moves to sit cross legged at the man’s feet. Her fur hat and coat go atop the bag to reveal that was all she had worn for her journey to Abbas. She looks up at him as he squirms and wines, eyes filled with need. No more did the Elder see the need for her Ventrue associate to keep messing with this one’s memory. Opal needed Abbas to remember everything from here on out. From the way the man yanked at the chains and spit something in Arabic through clenched teeth, these last few months remained fresh in his mind.

It didn’t sit well with a man of such mental vigor who seemed to have a grip on things by means of fear, control and influence. A mere Kine, Abbas was learning just how much he and his fellows, even those who used to be his superiors, were able to fall through the cracks by way of those more capable than them, those like Bahari High Priestess Opal St. Claire, Mistress of Pain.

It was funny what a little power could do. It was easy to break a Kine who thought there were top dog (especially a man), but to be a corpse true and make beings desire you so much their realities break that much more. Opal was so much of the side of thin that she seemed a sickly model with her sunken cheeks and ribs and grey glow to her skin. Her eyes were sunken just so, long nails sickly looking when not covered in polish. Sexual acts had been beyond the Elder for some time now, but that didn’t mean she was unable to bring forth the need in others. The Dark Mother has blessed this Lhaka for a particular path. The question was, how similar would her current favorite childer’s path look in a century compared to her own. Time would tell.

Opal pushes at the leather pouch and it rolls open to reveal tools that Abbas knew well by this point. “I sure you wonder why I have brought you here. Well—“ The woman picks up what looks like tweezers, pushing on them a couple times to produce that metallic click-click. “The one you kept you kept in Istanbul. Do you remember? You bashed that poor girl’s head in so well she waisted away for three years before she passed on.”

The Elder shakes her head and grabs hold of Abbas’ right big toe nail with the tool. She gives a yank drops it into a tray. The man groans with a shutter. “A comma they call it, yes? So cruel to make a family fight to maintain a vegetable.” Gone went the next toe nail and Abbas groaned again. Opal looks up at the man, but her eyes stop at the growing bulge in his pants. Her eyes narrow and she looks to her tool kit, then back to the man’s face.

“In the name of The Dark Mother, I will see that you suffer for all you did. Even to Tiffany. That was necessary to make her perfect for my means, but even still...” Opal licks off the bit of blood on the tool and begins to laugh. On Lilith’s blessing, they would enjoy the coming sunrise together.


End file.
